In Sickness and in Health: A Nathan Fielder Mystery
by jamesianmckenzie
Summary: Nathan, briefly hospitalized for injuries sustained while filming his show, investigates an exciting mystery involving murder, corruption and betrayal. His friends are on the scene to assist, including private detective Brian Wolfe, breast-ogling security guard Simon and love interest Mary (who never actually appeared in the show, so don't exert yourself trying to remember her).


Sure, he was still recovering from the accident, but that was no reason this couldn't be a fantastic day of shooting.

"Oh Nathan," said Mary, resting a hand on his anxious shoulder. "This salon of mine simply isn't getting enough customers. Whatever shall I do?"

Nathan gave her a pained look. "Give me a second to think of an idea."

"Very well," said Mary.

There was silence as he thought.

"You really want us to be filming this?" asked the cameraman.

"Yes, yes," answered Nathan.

Then, the idea struck him.

"What if," Nathan began, turning to Mary, "we brought in celebrities to cut hair? Charge extra for the more famous ones. You'll be the talk of the town."

Mary ran her fingers across her chin. "Yes, that sounds alright."

"Great!" said Nathan. He turned to the cameraman. "Did you get that?"

"No," he replied.

x

It had been a tough day, but Nathan was glad to have survived it. He took off his muddy work boots and stepped inside.

"Simon, I'm home!" he called.

"Hello Nathan," said Simon, suddenly appearing. "My housemate."

"Yes, we are housemates," replied Nathan. "Now, how was your day of being a security guard?"

"Well, I saw a woman with big breasts today," he began.

"That's what you say every day," snapped Nathan. "I wish sometimes you would have something a bit different to tell me, like, I don't know, 'I saw a woman with small breasts today.'"

"Geez, Nathan, why so grumpy?" asked Simon.

"I, uh, didn't get much sleep last night," he explained, rubbing his arm sheepishly.

"What kept you up?"

"Well," answered Nathan, resting his against Simon's ample bosom, "it was that bitch from next door."

"Who, the college student?"

"No, her dog," said Nathan. "It's like some sort of automated yapping machine - quite a useless machine if you ask me. But," he continued, calmly extracting himself from Simon's grip, "enough about that. I suppose I ought to take a shower and get this coal dust off me - as you know, when people return from their jobs, they are covered in coal dust."

"Yes, go," said Simon encouragingly.

Well, thought Simon (inside his brain), now that Nathan's gone, I can return to the television and watch some more sports.

x

Nathan headed to the bathroom and was alarmed to hear water running.

"What the..." thought Nathan "...fuck?"

Feeling anxious, he called out, "Who's there?"

The water suddenly stopped. He could hear somebody tearing open the shower curtains, then wet feet slapping against the bathroom floor.

Nathan racked his brain, trying to make sense of it all. Could it be Simon's lover? No. Simon was too grotesque to have courted a lady. The shower inspector, then? No, there wasn't such a thing.

At last, the door opened, revealing someone who Nathan recognised immediately, standing completely nude in front of him, even gesturing at his own genitals to call attention to them.

"Brian Wolfe!" cried Nathan.

Brian smiled and shook his head disbelievingly. "Look at you - the Wizard of Loneliness himself! Oh Nathan, it's been so long."

Trapped inside the burly man's clutches, Nathan smiled sheepishly.

The hugged for maybe twenty seconds before Nathan awkwardly freed himself. He squinted as he struggled to comprehend the situation. "But... what are you doing here?"

"Well..." began Brian, becoming serious now. "It's the Discovery Channel... they canceled my show. I've no money, Nathan, not a single penny to my name. I'm afraid I must ask if I can stay here, just until I get back on my feet, y'understand?"

"Well gee Brian," said Nathan, visibly squirming, "everything except y'understand. Is that even a word?" Nathan really didn't want Brian to live with him, but how could he say no? Sure, Brian wasn't the nicest guy in the world, but that was just his way.

"C'mon Nathan," Brian pleaded. "Just for a little while, I swear. A few years, tops."

Nathan couldn't help but smile. "Well, sure - why not? C'mere, ya old lug!"

The two men embraced once more, each rubbing their hands enthusiastically over the other's back.

Simon, having inadvertently walked in on the situation, cleared his throat and asked, "Am I interrupting something?"

The two men bashfully separated.

"I, uh... no," said Nathan.

"Well, clear a path," said Simon. "I've got to use the can."

"Uh, yes," said Nathan. He and Brian separated, allowing Simon to duck into the toilet, from which they immediately heard the sounds of violent diarrhea.

X

A few weeks later, Nathan was on his bed reading a comic book, trying to concentrate over the sounds of Brian copulating with a lady.

"Oh, baby!" shouted Brian enthusiastically.

"Shh!" she hissed in reply.

"No!" cried Brian. "I'll have sex as loudly as I want to!"

That was precisely what Nathan didn't want to hear. He looked disdainfully at the image of Sue Storm on the page, then threw the comic book aside. It was of no use - he was never going to be able to concentrate with this going on.

"Oh, baby!" cried Brian. "Work those anal beads!"

It just hadn't been the same since Brian had moved in. This was only the tip of the iceberg.

The first thing he did when he moved in was lock himself in the bathroom, spending the next three days in there, nude in the tub, drinking one bottle of whiskey after another, gradually submerging himself in his own bodily excretions.

Then he hatched a harebrained scheme to breed and sell monkeys. From the moment he brought them home, they had wreaked havoc in the house, causing far more damage than they would ever be worth to sell.

"Ah-ah!" the monkeys had cried as they had smashed Nathan's valuables while throwing handfuls of shit all around the house.

They had torn apart the pillows, sending feathers flying everywhere. They had emptied the cabinets, smashing plates on the ground. They had lorded over their destruction, their hairy arms raised over their heads. It was pure anarchy. The household had lost so much money on the gamble that its three tenants were eventually forced to eat the monkeys for sustenance.

Nathan, looking just to get away from everything, decided to go for a walk. Immediately once he had stepped outside, a police officer shined a torch in his eyes and said, "Well, you're out awful late."

"I'm sorry," said Nathan, "I just wanted to go outside and clear my head."

"Sounds a bit funny to me," replied the officer. Turning to his radio, he continued, "Niner one-one-two. We got a suspicious character out here. I'm gonna bring him in for questioning."

"No officer," said Nathan. "My house is immediately behind me. I'll just step back inside. Please, let me off with a warning."

The officer considered this for a moment, and said into his radio, "Cancel that APB." He added, "I better not see you around these parts again."

"Yes sir," replied Nathan, nodding. "You won't, sir."

"Good," said the officer, turning and returning to his vehicle.

Stepping back into the house, Nathan could still hear Brian moaning and grinding up against a lady.

"Jesus," said Nathan, wiping his forehead.

"Hey Nathan!" came a voice from one of the bedrooms. It was Simon. "C'mere!"

Nathan did as he was instructed.

Simon was crouched down on the ground, peering through a small opening which had been drilled into the wall.

Upon Simon's gesturing, Nathan too had a look. He could barely believe what he saw.

"No!" cried Nathan. "Mary!"

Nathan hadn't meant to attract their attention, but he now he had. Both members of the couple turned.

"You faggot!" cried Brian, as he spotted the hole.

Nathan shuffled backwards in fear while Brian charged toward them, colliding with the wall, his dick somehow protruding through the hole. He peeled himself off the wall then, and there were heavy footsteps until the bedroom door burst open.

"Shit," said Nathan.

Brian exited, completely nude, hurtling toward Nathan, his erection pointing accusatory at him. Behind him was a sheepish Mary, one arm covering her boobs, and the other one covering Brian's boobs.

"Don't you have nothin' better to do than watch a man have sex?" Brian demanded, crimson in the face.

"I - I -" began Nathan. He turned his gaze desperately to Mary. "How could you do this to me? Don't you know I have feelings for you?"

"Oh," said Brian, taking a moment to process this. He looked first at Mary, then back at Nathan. "I'm sorry," he said to Nathan. "I didn't know." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you had to see that then."

From the corner, Simon simply watched, his mouth agape. Nathan, too, was speechless.

"C'mere," said Brian to Mary. "Let's get dressed. I don't think either of us are in the mood anymore. Now," he continued, turning to Nathan, "you better fill that hole in the morning. I don't care with what. Except perhaps human faeces. You can find a better building material than that."

With that, Brian and Mary left the room.

x

Things were awkward on set the next day.

"H-hey Nathan," said Mary.

Nathan gave her a piercing stare that seemed to last a million years, though it was actually only one second.

"Yes, hello Mary," said Nathan, disgust creeping into his voice.

Over the course of the day, they did everything they could to avoid speaking to each other. Even when they were both having lunch in the break room, they each just read a magazine at opposite sides of the room, shuffling around uncomfortably.

After lunch, Nathan asked his producer, Allison, "How can I be funny under these circumstances?"

"Seems to me," replied Allison, "that you and Mary need to reconcile your differences."

"No," said Nathan. "No!"

Still agitated, he hovered around the salon, his eyes bouncing from one celebrity to another, searching desperately for something worth filming.

Noticing one interesting looking patron, he went over, his camera crew trailing him, and began a conversation. It did not last long until Allison rushed over, a panicked look on her face.

Nathan slapped his palms on his cheeks like Macaulay Culkin. "Allison, what is it?"

"It's bad, Nathan. You've gotta come over here."

Nathan ran briskly behind her. Upon arriving at the scene, he almost died from shock.

"You bloody bastard!" screamed a bald patron, waving a knife at his hairdresser. "I said I wanted my hair short. But not this short!"

"I'm sorry!" replied the man. "I guess hairdressing isn't my thing!"

"Woah, woah, guys," said Nathan, stepping between them.

He was immediately stabbed in the belly by the patron.

"Take that!" cried the patron, before fleeing out the back.

Mary, who suddenly emerged, was horrified.

"Nathan!" she cried, breaching their tacit pact of silence. "They've stabbed ya! Right in your tummy!" She dropped to her knees, and cursing fate, punched the ground repeatedly, accidentally smacking Nathan in the process.

"Aaarrgghh!" cried Nathan, doubling over in pain.

"Sorry," said Mary.

"Please..." began Nathan wheezily. "Call a hospital...! It hurts... It hurts me real bad..."

Allison lifted the receiver from the rotary phone beside her.

"Damn it," she said. " What's the emergency number? Nine-one-two?"

"Nine-one-one..." corrected Nathan, summoning every bit of energy he had left.

"He's delirious," said Mary. "I wouldn't trust him."

"Damn it, we have to," said Allison, dialing the number.

"You're going to be okay," Mary assured him, running her palm over his forehead.

"Emergency!" cried Allison to the operator. "Nathan Fielder's been stabbed... that's right, Nathan Fielder, from the Comedy Central program!"

Mary squeezed Nathan's hand and looked him in the eye. "Oh Nathan... my beautiful Nathan..."

She kissed him, forcing her tongue inside. "Nathan, you're gonna make it baby," she whispered, massaging his trousers. "I promise, baby."

And with that, Nathan finally passed out.

x

"What time is it?" asked Nathan Fielder. "And what day? And what's that smell? Did somebody fart?"

He looked around, laying his eyes immediately on Mary and Allison over at one side of him, and Brian and Simon on the other. They all murmured excitedly amongst themselves. Nathan was in a hospital bed, tubes and wires extending from his body.

"Am I okay?" he asked.

"You'll be fine," said Mary, grasping his hand once more. "It was only severe damage to your internal organs."

"What do you mean, severe?" asked Nathan.

"We're here for you buddy," said Simon, patting Nathan on his wound.

"Thanks guys," replied Nathan weakly, coughing up blood.

With that, a doctor approached.

"Ah," said the doctor, reading from his clipboard. "Miss Lally, with the malfunctioning vagina."

"I think you have the wrong chart," Fielder told him. "I'm Nathan. And I don't have a vagina. Well, I don't think I do."

The doctor looked up from his notes, looking surprised, until he seemed to remember something. "Oh, that's right. Miss Lally was murdered last night. You've taken her bed."

Everyone looked suddenly at the doctor, crying "Murdered?" in unison.

"Yes," said the doctor, looking at them all suspiciously. "It's remarkable that you all said that simultaneously. Anyway, someone's going around, disconnecting people's life support. I suppose they think it's funny or something. I guess it is pretty funny, when you think about it. But who know, really, about these murders?"

Nathan chuckled. "Ain't that just the truth."

But Allison was growing concerned. "Please, don't tell me somebody's going to come and murder my Nathan! No, no, please, don't say it!" She was so alarmed that she immediately stood and, in the midst of her extreme anxiety, grabbed Nathan's bed and tossed it over, sending him hurtling across the room.

"Please, don't do that," said the doctor.

"Sorry," said Allison, composing herself. "I get so crazy sometimes."

"Listen," said Brian, addressing everybody in the room. "As long as we're around, nobody's going to be murdering anybody. Am I right, people?"

Everyone cheered in agreement.

Nathan, laying in agony on the ground, still managed to smile. He had the best friends in the world.

x

Days passed, with visitors arriving frequently and cards accumulating on the dresser. Nathan had rarely felt sicker, but the compassion of his acquaintances kept him going.

Brian arrived early in the morning, only to find Nathan asleep. To rouse him, Brian jammed a couple of fingers in his mouth and nose.

Suddenly awoken, Nathan started spitting and coughing. "Hey, don't do that!"

"Yes, sorry," said Brian. "It's good to see you anyway, Nathan."

"Uh, yes. Likewise."

"Hey, you know... now that it's a few days later, that killer struck again."

"Oh?" said Nathan. "You know," he continued, his eyes narrowing, "I heard some weird screams last night. What if was the person being murdered... my God, I should have done something!"

Brian patted his shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up, old buddy. You're already beat up enough as it is." Brian removed Nathan wound dressings to prove his point.

"Uh, Brian, I think they're supposed to stay on."

"Perhaps," said Brian dismissively. "Anway, Simon asked me to give these to you." He passed over a transparent container with freshly baked cookies inside. "Psst," he continued, whispering now. "These cookies, they contain... MARIJUANA!" He screamed this last word for some reason, blowing out Nathan's eardrums.

"Okay," said Nathan. "Shall we share them?"

Brian agreed and they appropriately wolfed down the entire box in a matter of minutes.

"They weren't very good cookies," said Brian. "In fact, they tasted like ass."

"Well," said Nathan, "I suppose you're right."

The effects of the marijuana rapidly began to take hold.

"Woah man," said Brian. "I feel weird, man."

He laughed and Nathan laughed along with him, though it caused him great pain to do so. Once they started, they couldn't stop. Brian doubled over, slapping his knee. Nathan, in hysterics, rolled off the bed, landing on a bunch of syringes and sharp surgical tools.

Suddenly, a nurse entered. "What's going on here?" she asked.

This engendered only more laughter still. They kicked wildly, suffocating on his own guffaws.

The nurse looked down at the two of them and shook her head.

"Tut tut tut, those boys of mine..."

x

Day became night, just as everything eventually becomes something else, or most things do anyway, sometimes.

Outside the door, Nathan heard two people arguing.

"Take it from a psychiatrist," said a male voice. "This guy's a damn maniac. Going around, murdering patients... we've got to do something!"

"Well, I may only be a nurse, but nobody's ever seen this guy," replied the woman. "We've no idea who it could be. How can we catch someone we haven't identified?"

"I don't know, but we've got to figure something out. We've got to do everything we can to capture this son of a..." (he lowered his voice) "...son of a nigger... or this hospital is doomed by its reputation. First, the time we euthanised all those babies, and now this? We'll be done for."

"Yes," said the nurse. "You're right. I'll keep an eye out and tell you what I see."

With that, they parted ways.

In bed, Nathan struggled to put the pieces together in his mind. A psychiatrist? A nurse? What was all of this about anyway? Something strange was going on in this hospital, and he was going to find out what.

x

That night, Nathan had a strange dream. He was doing an episode of his show when, suddenly, over the hill came a herd of goats.

"We are the goats," said the leader of the goats, "and we are rising up against you humans, because you have treated us like inferiors for too long."

With that, the goat took a gun from his coat and fired at an old lady, killing her instantly.

"We have no remorse for you stupid humans."

Nahtan ducked and hid.

"We see you, Nathan," said the goat. "You think you're so funny with your comedy program, never stopping to think how us goats must feel."

Nathan emerged from his hiding place then. "I'm sorry, goats," he said. "I'm sorry that we farm you and harvest your milk, and I'm sorry that we occasionally roast you for food... or I do, anyway."

"Yeah," added someone else, emerging from nowhere. "Nathan's right. We are sorry. About this!"

With that, the man drew a tommy gun and opened fire on the goats.

"Baah!" they cried, attempting to flee, but falling down in the hail of bullets.

"No!" exclaimed Nathan, dropping to his knees and screaming at the sky like Charlie Sheen in Platoon.

Others were shooting the goats too. It was a massacre. Goat after goat was struck down. It was like the end of the Godfather, but with goats, and without a baptism.

"Please," begged Nathan, "they did nothing to deserve this!"

But it was too late. All the goats were all dead. Nobody would ever enjoy goat cheese again.

"Look what you've done," said Nathan, his voice trembling. "We humans, we're rotten to the core. We kill and kill... will it ever end? Will the killing ever stop?"

"Shut up," said one of the people, pushing Nathan over into a mud puddle.

Nathan pulled himself up and wipes his face. "Look at us," he said, "pushing and shoving like savages. Who are the real monsters? The goats? No, I don't think so. I think it's us!"

With that, Nathan suddenly woke, leaping up in a sweat.

"Oh, that was so horrible," he said, "with the goats."

x

Dreams were one thing, but real life murders were quite another. He had solicited Brian to investigate, and so now Brian patrolled the hospital, searching for clues.

It was just after twelve when he discovered the most curious thing at the sight of the second murder.

"A sandwich," said Brian, lifting it up. "Maybe the killer's sandwich."

"No, that's mine," said a doctor sorting through charts at the opposite end of the room. "Please put that down."

"I must confess," said Brian to the doctor, "I am looking into the murder what happened here."

"Hmm?" the doctor replied. "Oh, that old thing. Nobody cares about that."

"Well, I'll see that I find the truth," said Brian.

The doctor stepped into the light.

"The woman who was murdered," said Brian, gulping as he suddenly felt anxious. "What was her name again?"

"Oh, Miss Lally?"

"Yes. Was she attractive?" Brian asked.

"No, quite repulsive, actually," he answered.

"Good. Then I'll have no chance of falling in love with her like in that movie Laura," said Brain. "So, what do you reckon about this anyway? It's funny, isn't it? People being murdered like this?"

"Yes, it is quite humorous," he said.

"No, I mean funny as in strange. Who could be behind it all? Who would you suspect."

"Well, there's a certain nurse I'm suspicious of," he answered.

"Name of...?"

"Mischa," he replied. "Yes - knowing her, she must have done it."

Brian looked at him curiously. "You're sure about that?"

"Maybe," he said, shrugging. "I would simply arrest her and get it over and done with."

"Surely, you don't -"

"I mean exactly what I say, detective."

"Tell me, doctor... are you the killer?"

He cackled villainously. "Of course not," he replied. "I wouldn't hurt a fly. Unless it was an especially annoying fly.

Brian looked at him curiously.

"But I'm afraid I have to run now, detective. I have lives to take - I mean, save. Cheerio, and good luck with your investigation."

Brian nodded as the doctor left, a quizzical expression fixed stubbornly to his face.

x

"That doctor, from earlier?" asked Nathan. "You think he's behind this? But Brian - he's my doctor! Should I be concerned right now?"

"Be on your guard whenever he's around," replied Brian. "And here, take this machine gun."

"Brian, I really don't think I should keep a machine gun here. There are nurses coming through here a thousand times a day, cleaning things, making the bed. And how did you sneak it in here anyway? Look at the size of that thing."

"Forget it, Nathan," said Brian. "But I suppose you're right. Maybe a switchblade will suffice."

As he drew it from his pocket and handed it to Nathan, the fiendish doctor himself entered.

"Hello boys," he said. He had brought a new colostomy bag with him.

"Well, hello," replied Nathan, tucking the knife quietly under the covers.

"We've decided to switch your pain medication," he explained.

"To what?" Brian demanded.

"Well, I haven't looked carefully at the label," said the doctor, "but my nurse has assured me -"

Brian snatched the bag from the doctor's grip.

"Cyanide?" Brian demanded. "I'm not letting you give Nathan this!"

He threw the colostomy bag out the window, immediately causing a car crash.

"What?" said the doctor, appearing baffled. "Well, just a simple mix-up..."

Brian approached the doctor, looking him square in the eye. "You goddamn son of a nigger. I knew it was you who killed those women."

The doctor shrugged repeatedly. "Women? Killed? You're being irrational, detective. We'll have to commit you to our insanity wing if you keep it up."

"I doubt it's called the insanity wing," said Nathan.

"I'll prove it was you!" Brian continued. "Then you'll see. You'll all see!"

The doctor laughed derisively and left the room.

"Maybe you're right about that guy," said Nathan. "Whatever the case, there's no doubt about it... I'm in big trouble now."

x

The doctor was in a hurry. He had worked too long and was running late for a lecture he was to deliver at the local university. In the break room, taking off his scrubs, he was suddenly confronted by nurse Mischa.

"You cunt," said Mischa. "What rumours have you been spreading about me?"

The doctor gulped. "Mischa, please..." he began, feeling as if he was about to poo his pants. "Mischa," he continued, his eyes narrowing. "Did you kill those women?"

She pushed him against the wall with one hand and grabbed his throat with the other.

"What do you think, you stupid cunt?" she whispered, her lips barely an inch from his ear.

"Mischa, please..." he said. "I won't tell anybody, I swear..."

She narrowed her eyes. "You better not," she began, "if you ever wanted to see your family again."

He knew she wasn't kidding.

"Yes, yes," he squeaked, his voice a strangled whine. "Now please, let me go."

She released him. He bent over, breathing heavily as he struggled to recover.

"I'll see you round, Doc," said Mischa, turning quickly and flicking her hair.

The doctor shook his head. "That woman'll be the death of me," he said, trembling still.

x

"So you're sure it's him, one hundred percent?" asked Nathan.

"He tried to poison you!" replied Brian. "Don't you see, Nathan? Don't you see it's all so clear now?"

"We need proof," said Nathan. "We've got to catch him in the act."

"Now Nathan," Brian began, "I know you come up with some pretty crazy schemes on your show, but this is real life. How in the darn heck do you propose we do that?"

"Well, before we do anything Brian, I should tell you that I don't appreciate that sort of language."

Brian recoiled sheepishly.

"But alas," continued Nathan, "we have no way of knowing who and when he's going to kill next,"

"Oh don't we?"

Nathan gave him a curious look.

"We've been asking a lot of questions, Nathan. If I was the killer, I'd kill you next."

All of Nathan's hemorrhoids ruptured at once.

"B-but, I can't die!" Nathan exclaimed. "My show is too important! Brian, you can't let him kill me!"

"Well," said Brian, "perhaps we need somebody to guard you."

"But who?" asked Nathan.

They thought for a moment, then both men's eyes lit up simultaneously.

x

The Comedy Central crew arrived with the Librarian's Quest machine, which was able to store Simon the security guard comfortably inside. Though the hospital staff had protested, wondering why the machine had to be left in that particular room, let alone in the hospital at all, Nathan was able to coerce them in the end.

When everyone had cleared out, Nathan said to Simon, "How are you in there?"

"Fine," he replied, taking an audible sip of his beverage, which sat beside the machine, a long straw protruding into it. "Brian and I miss you over at the house," he said, "especially your contributions to the rent."

"Aw, thanks Simon," replied Nathan, smiling to himself. "You fellas truly are the best friends a guy could ever have."

Simon, pleased to hear the compliment, suddenly farted, coughing and choking at the fumes which were trapped inside the machine.

"Are you going to be alright in there?" asked Nathan.

"Uh, yes," answered Simon, his eyes watering.

"Well, I'm going to take a nap," Nathan told him. "Wake me if any murderers come."

Immediately, the sound of snoring echoed throughout the room.

x

Hours passed before Simon's attention was suddenly roused by suspicious activity. There was movement - someone was entering the room. The shapeless figure waddled over to Nathan's bed and gently poked the end of a needle into his colostomy bag.

Simon emerged instantly from the Librarian's Quest machine, screaming loudly, running over and tackling the intruder.

"Ooomph! My ovaries!"

"Ovaries?" said Simon, curiously. "But men don't have ovaries..."

The lights suddenly came on, revealing the intruders face.

"No!" said Simon.

"That's right!" the woman cried. "It's me, Mischa, the nurse!"

Simon shook his head. "When will you women learn - that you can't just murder your problems away. You're going in the slammer, lady. Guards!"

Two uniformed men hurried in.

"Follow us, ma'am," the taller of the two guards said.

They took her in their clutches and escorted her from the room.

But - before they reached the door, Mischa suddenly whipped around, snatching a gun from the holster of one of the guards, and pointed it toward Nathan's bed. She let out a banshee cry and pulled the trigger.

Simon sideswept her, crushing her slender frame as they both collided with the ground. Upon impact, her head smacked the linoleum with such force that she began immediately bleeding from the nose and ears, convulsing and frothing from the mouth.

"Thanks Simon," said Nathan, smiling. "I guess you could say - her bedside manner could use some work."

Everyone laughed simultaneously, including several hospital staff who heard the joke from outside, and entered the room.

x

Several days later, Nathan rejoined his crew on set.

"You were so brave," said Mary, taking his hand and smiling compassionately at him.

"Well, I couldn't have done it without the help of my friends," he replied.

Mary, impressed with his modestly, gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"Should I be filming this?" asked the cameraman from the side.

Nathan nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

Sure, he was still recovering from the accident, but that was no reason this couldn't be a fantastic day of shooting.


End file.
